20. Selene
Selene
Ithought that once I was out of Darby’s presence, I’d finally be able to breathe.
But I was wrong. I still can’t breathe.
The warm afternoon sun hits my face as I leave the Ad Group building.
The glass doors close behind me with a soft hiss, shutting out the hum of voices and ringing phones.
I stand there for a full minute, trying to pull myself together and get out of my own head.
I exhale, rolling my shoulders back. It’s done.
The article. The meetings. The contract.
I should feel relieved, but all I feel is an ache deep in my chest.
“Selene.”
I turn at the sound of my name and see Garrett walking toward me.
I won’t say I'm surprised that he’s here.
Even if I wasn’t looking at him, Darby didn’t take his eyes off me throughout the whole meeting.
I saw Aden and Garrett exchanging glances during the meeting many times.
Plus, Darby followed me out, too. I’m sure the brothers have questions to ask me.
It makes me wonder if Aden went to ask Darby questions, and Garrett came to ask me.
I offer him a small smile. “Garrett.”
He stops in front of me, his hands in his pockets. “Heading home already?”
I nod. “Yeah. I have to get back to my son. He agreed to help with dinner tonight so I need to make the kitchen child safe.”
I shift my bag on my shoulder. “How’s Olivia? And the baby?”
His expression softens instantly. “They’re great. Olivia is still adjusting to less sleep, but she’s handling it better than I am.”
I smile at that. “I’m happy for you both.”
He hesitates for a moment, then tilts his head slightly. The sounds of the city filter between us—distant car horns, the murmur of people walking past, the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Then he finally says what’s really on his mind.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but… did anything happen between you and Darby?”
Well, there it is—the million-dollar question.
Garrett’s expression remains calm. “From that night at the beach, I knew something was up with both of you. And I don’t mean just friendship.”
I exhale, shifting my weight. There’s no need to lie or pretend. Not to Garrett at least. “We were… a little more than friends in college.”
Garrett watches me carefully, then nods. “That makes sense.”
He doesn’t press, which I appreciate. Instead, he offers a small, apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position with this job.”
I shake my head. “It hasn’t been awkward. I really enjoyed working on this article, and it means more to me than you know.”
And that’s the truth. This article meant more to me, and Darby than either of us has admitted yet. We got to work on a few dreams we talked about in college, and I don’t regret taking the job for a second.
Garrett watches me closely. I know he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he nods, accepting that I’m not ready to talk. “Thank you for handling your work so professionally,” he says after a moment. “Despite… everything.”
I smile. “It’s my job.”
“Still,” he says, offering a small smile. “We appreciate it.”
I nod again, and then he steps back. With a small wave, I walk towards the parking lot to Jake's car. As I unlock the door and slide into the driver’s seat, I let out a slow breath.
Garrett wasn’t prying. He was just being observant. And maybe part of me wishes I had been honest with him. But what would I even say?
I grip the steering wheel tightly, then force myself to shake it off. As I pull out onto the street, my phone buzzes against the dashboard.
I glance at the screen. Jake.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Jake says. “Just checking in. I’m about to head out. Our uncle is in town, and he has an emergency.”
“How about your car?”
“It’s part of the reason I’m calling.”
I check the time. “I’m on my way. Should be home soon.”
“Leo’s already asking of you,” he says, his voice softer now. “He said something about dinner.”
I smile. “Yeah. I’m beginning to think that wasn’t such a good idea.”
“I don’t think he should have much energy to cause you trouble. He talked my ear off about his school project,” Jake says with a chuckle. “Then I saw him sneak off with my phone to make a call. He said he wanted to talk to a friend.”
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter. “Thanks for watching him, Jake.”
“I’ve got your back-drive safe.”
The call ends, and I exhale slowly. I feel bad about how I treated Darby—the coldness, the distance, the way I shut him down before he could even ask me to dinner. I know I’m repeating exactly what I did a few years ago.
But I can’t help it.
I’m scared out of my mind, and my emotions are a mess. I don’t know how to handle them, so I’m trying to bury them. It’s easier to pretend nothing happened than to face what’s been growing between us.
And now, after his confession in the jet, the guilt is heavier, and as the guilt grows, so does my fear of an unpredictable future.
I’m scared.
Scared of telling him the truth. Afraid of what will happen when he finds out about Leo. Terrified of how he will handle the news.
I tighten my grip on the wheel, my heart pounding at the thought. I remember how he acted when we first saw each other again, back at the beach in Hawaii. The way his face hardened, his words cutting like a knife. The anger, the resentment, and the pain. How he handled it.
What will he do when he finds out I didn’t just leave him? That I took his son with me?
He already apologized.
I know, but my fear won’t let me dwell on that fact. It’s one thing to apologize when you’ve done something wrong, but it’s another ball game to apologize when something wrong has been done to you.
A shiver runs down my spine.
Darby is powerful. Wealthy. If he wanted to take Leo from me, he could. No. I shake my head, forcing the thought away. Darby isn’t cruel. He isn’t heartless. But he is unpredictable. And I love Leo too much to take that risk.
When I pull into my driveway, Jake is standing there waiting for me. He takes his car keys, places a fast kiss on the side of my head, and zooms off. I lock the door behind me, forcing myself to shake off the unease.
“Mom!”
Leo runs from the hallway, his little feet pounding against the hardwood floor. His face is lit up with excitement, his green eyes—Darby’s eyes—wide with joy.
I drop my bag and crouch down, opening my arms. He barrels into me, wrapping his arms tightly around my neck. “Hey, buddy,” I say, smoothing his messy hair. “I thought you’d be taking a nap by now?”
He pulls back, bouncing on his heels. “I have a surprise!”
I arch an eyebrow, smiling at his energy. “A surprise, huh? What is it?”
Leo grins, his front tooth slightly crooked, giving him the perfect mischievous look. “I invited my friend for dinner!”
I blink. “You… what?”
“I called my friend,” he says proudly. “He’s coming over.”
A warm feeling spreads through my chest. Leo doesn’t bring friends home often. He’s friendly at school, but he’s also careful about who he lets in. Then I remember what Jake said about the call he made.
“That’s amazing, sweetheart,” I say, brushing his hair back. “Who’s your friend?”
Leo’s grin widens. “It’s a secret.”
I chuckle. “A secret?”
He nods, giggling. “Yep.”
I tilt my head. “Leo… do I know this friend?”
He presses his lips together like he’s trying really hard not to spill the truth. “Maybe.”
I squint at him playfully. “Is it Jake?”
He laughs. “No! Jake is Uncle Jake.”
I pretend to think. “Is it Max from your class?”
Leo shakes his head, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Nope.”
I let out a dramatic sigh. “Then I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”
Leo claps his hands. “Yep! And we have to cook something super yummy!”
I smile and stand up, stretching my arms. “Alright, Chef Leo. What should we make?”
He taps his chin, thinking. “Spaghetti!”
“Spaghetti it is.”
We head to the kitchen, and I tell Leo to wait on the island while I do all the work that involves sharp objects. At the same time, I try to clear off anything else and make the space safe for him.
After a while, I invite him over. Leo pulls a chair up to the counter. He watches as I grab the ingredients, his excitement bubbling over. He watches everything I do, and when I’ve laid the foundation for the spaghetti, he chips in. “I wanna do the stirring!”
“Okay, but carefully,” I warn, handing him a wooden spoon.
He dips it into the pot of simmering tomato sauce, his little hands gripping the handle tightly. He stirs with exaggerated movements, pretending to be a professional chef, and my heart leaps at the smallest splash of sauce.
“More basil!” he announces. I chuckle, sprinkling in some fresh basil leaves. The smell fills the kitchen, and I try not to take my eyes off him. “Now, the pasta!” Leo says.
I grab the spaghetti and hand him a few strands. He breaks them in half and drops them into the boiling water, his face full of concentration.
As we work together, I can’t stop smiling. These are the moments I live for. The laughter. The bonding. The simple joy of cooking with my son. I don’t know who I would be without him.
While the spaghetti is cooking, we set the table together. Leo places the plates with as much care as his fingers can manage, making sure everything is “perfect.” He even folds the napkins in his own messy way, calling it his “fancy touch.”
I ruffle his hair. “You did an amazing job, buddy.”
He beams. “I know.”
Then the doorbell rings.
Leo gasps dramatically. “He’s here!”
I wipe my hands on a towel and head to the door, smiling. I don’t know who I’m expecting, but I’m excited that Leo is finally comfortable enough to bring a friend home. I pull the door open and freeze.
Darby stands on my doorstep.
My heart stops.
He’s wearing a dark gray button-up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his forearms. His hair is slightly tousled and shines in the porch light. His green eyes meet mine, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.